His lips twitch, but the heat in his eyes doesn’t fade. “And she’s ours.”
I grin. “Damn right she is. We’ll keep her satisfied, fucked out, dripping and glowing - just like she deserves.”
Theo exhales a laugh, the tension in his chest easing. “And if she wants to watch next time?”
I smirk and lean in, pressing a kiss just behind his ear. “Then we give her the best fucking show of her life.”
And just like that, the bond between us shifts.
Not the same as what we feel with her, but something else.
Pack.
Pack that’s bonded by sweat, trust, lust, and the shared fire of one omega who’s wrecking us in the best fucking way.
And we haven’t even started yet.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rhea
Ibarely sleep.
Not because I'm not tired - I'mexhausted. My bones are begging for mercy. But my brain? No. My brain is hosting a full-blown 3 a.m. chaos symposium where the keynote speaker is Regret and the panel discussion is “Why Didn’t Lucian Show Up (And Why Are You Acting Like It Matters?)”
I roll over for what feels like the hundredth time, smashing my face into the pillow and letting out a long, frustrated groan that could honestly be used as ambient sound in horror movies.
I’m starving. I’m sticky. I’m wearing a hoodie that smells like Kai, and somehow, despite being fucked into the stratosphere by two extremely competent alphas, I still feel… twitchy. Like something’s missing.
Which. Is.So. Annoying.
Ash?Ruined me. In the best way. Ten out of ten, would let him break my back again.
Theo? Held me like I was made of light and whispered things that made me want to cry and also punch a wall. Also ten out of ten. Would worship with again.
But still, my body keeps reaching. Like it knows someone didn’t show. Like it’s screaming, “Hey! You forgot one!”
And I hate that it’s right.
Because now, despite being full of slick and sainted alpha praise, I am back to square one: mildly feral and ready to flip a table.
I pull Kai’s hoodie tighter around me. It helps. Kind of. I curl into the nest I rebuilt out of stubborn instinct and petty emotion, and after a few long, slow breaths of Kai-scented cotton, I sit up with a groan.
I look like a post-orgasm cryptid. Hair wild, skin flushed, thighs still sore in the best way.
And I’mbored.
So when the knock comes, I practically leap off the bed like I’ve just been caught swiping on my old boss’s dating profile.
(Yes. That really happened.)
The door hisses open after I mumble “yeah,” and there he is.
Theo.
Golden boy. Cinnamon roll. Possibly still leaking Omega-worship energy from last night.
But this time, he looks a little… well,off.